


Broken, Whole

by onceuponanovel



Series: Capitol Offense [4]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Capitol Offense, Crossover Pairings, District 12 (Hunger Games), F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, One Shot, One True Pairing, Panem, Post-Game(s), Rumitch, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Short One Shot, capitol justice, capitol offense!verse, crackship, new panem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponanovel/pseuds/onceuponanovel
Summary: A Rumitch One ShotThis began as me just rambling and trying to write anything. So I thought I would give my beloved Haymitch and Ruby a chance. Here's a little one shot and hope you enjoy it. :)Ruby returns after a short separation (this is based on Capitol Offense!verse) and they agree not to part again.
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy/Red Riding Hood | Ruby
Series: Capitol Offense [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/302304
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Broken, Whole

Ruby approached with caution. Her light footing dodged all the creaks along the old floorboards. Though the house had been built decades, nee, nearly half a century before, the neglect was hard to ignore. She did her best to improve it, to bring new life to the haunted atmosphere. She kept trying even when it was thwarted.

Like every summer, the house became a hurtful reminder of everything he lost. She felt his ache and perhaps enabled him in any way to forget it. Often that required finding what liquor she could as a balm for the wounded soul.

Proceeding, she met the old brittle table, scattered with tableware, glass bottles in various stages of use, and he slumped over on the surface with his head down. He moved softly with each breath, finally sleeping, it was never a peaceful slumber.

She dared to touch his shoulder, give him a gentle shake. She jumped back out of habit, because he jerked in his seat and brandished the knife he always slept with.

"Haymitch, it's me," she said kindly, softly, hoping it may calm him in this state.

It took a moment for Haymitch to focus, his stupor was wearing off. She could see it in his silver eyes, the realization of where he is. Somehow trapped between the arena and the safety of his home. He didn't want to admit it, but this was his home. 

He tossed the blade onto the table in defeat and stood, the chair he was in scratched the floor.

"I thought I told you that it wasn't safe when I'm -" he waved his arm lazily. "When I'm like this."

"I've never been afraid around you," she replied, going to him, slipping her arm around his bicep.

She didn't let him protest, even when he sputtered something under his breath. Drunken curses probably about her stubbornness. He was a fine one to talk. She led him all the way up the stairs in the dark house, each step he grumbled about something to which she ignored.

"C'mon…" he groaned when they reached the top of the stairs. Dragging him inside his bedroom, "Is this a way of getting me in bed?"

"Well, yes, you're not going to sleep at the table. Not while I'm here." It had always been her rule, but during these days, he always fell into his old habits.

He was still working off the alcohol, she could tell in the way he was off balance. Holding onto the footboard of the bed and reached out for her too. Feeling his touch against her waist, she wanted to resist, he wasn't of clear mind and it wasn't right. No matter how much a single touch could ignite something no one else ever had.

"I missed you," he said with his voice low and a hint of melancholy. 

He stepped closer to her as if they were magnetically drawn to her. She felt his warmth, his breath, the want for her, and she wanted him too. Missed him. The time apart made her miss every little thing about him. Even his constant grumbling and complaints, they had a way of making her smile and laugh. She would tease him just to irritate him further. 

She missed him too. 

Her eyes closed, battling with whether she should or shouldn't. "You need rest," she answered.

"I didn't think I would see you again," he said, resting his forehead to hers. "Except you're in my dreams. I know I'm not dreaming."

"I'll help you into bed," she tried to change the subject.

He sounded lucid, but she hadn't seen him drink in a long time, let alone know how many bottles he drained before she returned. It was the kids who knew him best in this drunken state, not her.

She thought since they were close enough their noses touched that he might bridge the gap between them. Tempted to do it herself. It wasn't about what she wanted, he needed her and she needed him. At this moment it was about her helping him. 

"You need to rest," she repeated shakily, very aware of how close he was to her. "Not at a table…" she shook her head, guiding him, each step she took backwards, he took one forward just to be near her. 

"I love you," he said, surprising her with the emotion freely shared. 

As much as she wanted desperately to hear him say that to her, it pained her at the same time. He wasn't sober, at least not yet. 

"Haymitch," her voice crackled, "You're drunk."

"No," he protested.

"You are," she interjected. "All those bottles…"

"I did drink, but," he admitted ashamedly. "I emptied the rest in the sink. I just wanted enough to sleep. Whether I'm drunk or sober, I'm always me."

He planted his hands on her waist, pulled her to him, she went willingly. She had missed how it felt to hold each other. Her hands went to his, traveling towards his biceps and remembered how it felt to wake up from her own nightmare with him comforting her till she was at peace.

"I love you," he said again, his lips brushed her temple as he said those words just for her. 

Emotion welled in her throat, her chest, threatening to betray her. "I love you too," she reached up to feel the scruff against his face, till her touch sloped down his neck, itching for more. He leaned into her as her touch slid down to his chest. Her whole body felt like it was on fire with the way his mouth brushed down her neck. She gave into it as she desperately wanted to. 

The desire within her won over. She gathered up the knit of his sweater, pulling it up, he sided her to pull it over his head. It left him shirtless and hair mussed, it wasn't as if she hadn't seen him like this before, but they were brief encounters. She couldn't resist. Her touch explored his skin shamelessly all the way down to his waistband and she undid it slowly and it was satisfying to push it down off his hips and fell to the floor.

Her turn came as soon enough, his hands peeled off her shirt, working on the buttons of the flannel till it fell loose and she shimmied it off her shoulders. He worked on her trousers next, till she was only in her underwear, equal to him. 

She drew him with her towards the bed, the one they had shared before, but never for anything other than sleep. Pulling him to her, down onto the bed with her roughly, she had waited long enough. Their lips united passionately and their hands removed the rest of the fabric separating them. His mouth parted with hers and roamed down her neck and chest. She breathed his name, her eyes closed. She followed him with her senses, till he returned to her mouth, her body begging for more. 

She wrapped her legs around his waist, turning the tables and she was on top of him. She smiled wickedly at him. "I like it better this way," she admitted, leaning down to kiss him briefly.

"I can't complain with the view," he muttered, her lips kissing down his jaw and her hands slithered down his chest.

He groaned when she fondled his length and they harmonized when she sheathed over him. She rolled into him, her heart hammered in her chest each time they collided. His fingers cupped her hips, pressing into her flesh, sitting up with her. He kissed her, her moan silenced. 

Nothing mattered except how they felt, how beautiful it was to be together in this intimate way. Becoming one. They took their time, exploring each other's body, treating their time with care. The tension building between them pushing her over the edge with ecstasy. Body trembling and exhaling her relief, followed by his. The both of them collapsing onto the bed in a satiated bliss.

She laid beside him, their bodies tangled, breathing haggard. She inched closer to him, his arm curled around her back to pull her to him.

Her head rested against his chest, tracing her fingers lazily across his chest. This is what should have been, this is what is, and of course they were burdened, hurt, broken, but together they could be whole.


End file.
